


Miscommunication

by sariahsue



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, adrien's terrible cooking skills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:36:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29816124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sariahsue/pseuds/sariahsue
Summary: Adrien was preparing dinner for his wife. Or trying to.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 10
Kudos: 82
Collections: Post Reveal Revelry 2021





	Miscommunication

"You otay, Dada?" Hugo's chubby baby face looked down with concern as Adrien stared at the clock face.

He'd slipped - probably on that puddle of cake batter that Louis had spilled - and was now trying to figure out exactly how much time he had left until Marinette got home. She'd said 7. The clock said it was 4. He still had three hours. The clock's hands twitched feebly in place, and ice coursed through Adrien's veins. The clock was dead. What time was it?!

He scrambled to his feet, patting Hugo on head to reassure him, and ran to the counter to grab his phone. Two hours. He only had two hours. Well, two hours was enough, wasn't it?

Adrien scanned the kitchen. Louis was sounding out words in the recipe. Hugo was spreading Legos across the kitchen floor. Little Emma was in her high chair and had frosting on her hands, across her cheeks, in her hair, and (Adrien squinted with suspicion) in between her toes.

Flour dusted every surface, like someone had emptied a bag right in front of a blowing fan. Adrien's third attempt at cake batter was looking delicious, but still in the bowl. As soon as the dinner was out of the oven, he could pop the cake in. Two hours was enough time to bake a cake, right? Dinner, cake, and… he was sure he was forgetting something.

Everything had to be perfect. It was the last night of Marinette's first Fashion Week, and she'd been so stressed over it for months and worked so hard. She deserved to come home to a perfect dinner. Two hours would have to be enough time.

"Louis, let's practice your numbers now. What do you see on the recipe?" Adrien looked over his son's shoulder as he struggled. Adrien glanced up at the clock, which of course still wasn't working, and then back down at Louis, and held his tongue. They had enough time. He didn't need to rush Louis, he reminded himself.

Louis raised both hands high in the air. "Forty-five!"

Adrien smiled and praised and high-fived and poured the batter into a pan and smelled something burning and groaned. He'd meant to make baked ratatouille, but it looked more charred than edible.

Ordering in would be just as good, or probably better than his cooking. And Marinette came from a family of bakers. She would appreciate a homemade cake.

Emma shrieked while the phone rang and Hugo banged his Legos on the ground. Louis hopped off the stool to play with him, and Adrien slouched over the cake recipe. Forty five minutes. 170 degrees.

Oh, no! The strawberry reduction sauce! That's what he'd forgotten!

Adrien didn't want to look at the clock anymore. He could feel time slipping away as he put the cake in the oven, washed and cut the strawberries and put them on a plastic plate on the back burner and put a pot full of sugar on the front. No more mistakes. This was for Marinette, and she deserved the best.

Cake check, sauce almost check, dinner would be someone else's problem. Emma shrieked. Louis came back, head poking up eye level to the pot before he stepped back up on the stool.

"Sorry, kiddo," Adrien said. "You can't help with stove top stuff. You know the rules."

"Uh." Louis pointed to the back burner, where the center of the red plastic plate was melting.

Adrien whimpered and lifted up the plate. Strings of plastic stretched out. A strawberry fell through the hole and splattered across the stove top. And Marinette walked into the kitchen.

"Need some help?" she asked.

"You weren't supposed to be home until 7!"

"Tomorrow," she said, kicking Legos out of her way and picking up Emma, who had started to cry. "You're making dinner for me?"

"No, I've got the luck of a black cat, remember? I'm ruining dinner for you."

"So thoughtful." Marinette used her free hand to pull him down for a kiss, and Adrien felt himself sag underneath her compassion. He'd failed her.

"Sorry, bug" he said. "I know you've been having a bad week. I just wanted to make you happy."

Marinette laid a hand over his heart and smiled up at him. She smiled at him anyway. "Thank you."

"But I made such a mess."

"It's just a mess, and _you_ make me happy, kitten. Everything else you do for me is just a bonus. Haven't I told you that yet?"

Adrien pulled her into a hug. "Must have forgotten."

"I'll always remind you," she said. "Now, what kind of dessert are we having?"

**Author's Note:**

> In apology for yesterday's angst, here's some domestic fluff. This was written for an event I'm hosting on Tumblr: Post Reveal Revelry!


End file.
